


Ballet on Acid

by maymabane



Series: The Macabre Dance Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, Drug Addiction, Gang Rape, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Methamphetamine, Multi, Sad, There literally is no happiness in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 08:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maymabane/pseuds/maymabane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drug addiction that can't be helped and a forced marriage that can't be stopped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ballet on Acid

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for all the angst in advance. Working on chapter three at the moment.

**Ballet on Acid**

**By M. Bane**

**  
**

Chapter 1:Music

**Severus**

The music starts off slow. Slippered feet drag across the sanded wood, tracing each crack. Violin bows and offers his hand. The man bows back and begins to dance. It's simple at first. Fouette, chasse, one more fouette and then attitude. The violin steps back, allowing the handsome flute to take the man's hand. Their dance is fast. Turns are made with quick movements. The man forgets all technique, letting his body move with the flute. He's lost in the sound of ballet. He is in love. In love with the flute, the violin, the drums, the gentle sound of vocals. The love is abusive. The wind tears at his hair, the violin bites him, drums beat into heart and the vocals...they yell. They remind him of a cold childhood. Of his mother's tear streaked face. Of hungry nights, nibbling on stale crackers. Of thirsty days, forcing himself through spoiled milk. Of blue bruises turning black. But he doesn't leave the music. He still loves it. He loves the ripped hair, the bloody bites, the dark bruises on his heart. He even loves the screams. They keep him alive. They make him human. They are getting him through the worst of the pain. The music gets him through the sex. It gets him through the abuse and tears. The music is what keeps him sane.

****-*****-*****

**Remus**

The music is fast. Hurry. Spin faster, get away from the spiders. Get away from the broken glass and past. Do you want the monsters to catch you? The man falls. Screams. Screams. Screams turn into shrieks. The musical notes turn into demons. The demons scratch at him. Fight! Fight back! He swipes back at the demons. They turn into snakes that crawl under his skin. NO! He hears himself scream. NO! NO! The man shrieks and shrieks and shrieks. He gropes around in the dark. GO AWAY! A knife. The man shrieks again, NO! STOP KILLING ME! The snakes squirm into his stomach, his eyes. NO! PLEASE! The man digs the knife into his arm. He digs the snakes out. Blue, purple. Red. NO! He keeps digging until he throws up. The snakes come out along with spiders and rivers of blood. His vomit turns into acid. He's burning! The acid and snakes are killing him. PLEASE! The man curls up in acid and blood and snakes and cries. Please. The musical notes become mediwizards. The music is too late. He is too far gone.

******-*******-********-*****

**Severus**

His moans are practiced. Every low growl, every kiss, every touch has been rehearsed. They have all practiced on an empty stage, with nothing but dirty pictures to help them. But now they were performing. The audience is in awe. Doesn't that throaty moan sound lovely? Did you see how that kiss? Look how it's carefully precise. Wow! These actors must be payed brilliantly. Ah, look. They are getting payment now. See how the manager presses warm kisses underneath the stage's ear. Amazing! More payment I see. The manager turns the stage, slowly pushing apart curtains. The stage arches up to kisses and licks. Murmurs...do you see that? We should get a stage like that. Not the stage silly. The actors. The manager. The stage is just an empty shell. Dressed in frills, covered in jewels. We both know dear that the stage is bland. Ugly. Ordinary.

******-*******-**********-************

**Remus**

Angels. The men grunting and thrusting above him are angels. Sent from God to patch him up. Stop the bleeding. Wipe the tears away. The angels gave him food, a nice soapy bath. They rubbed healing potions into his skin. The angels gave him chocolate. Fancy little truffles from France. They unwrapped them for him. Set it onto his tongue. That's when they began to kiss him. They touched his nipples, sucked on his neck. He let them because it was a change. Finally he could be healed. But then he reminded himself that the spiders were just waiting. The snakes were in the corners, ready to creep under his skin. Stay calm, he thinks. The angels are here to protect you. Both of the men orgasm at the same time. Cum drips from his ass, making the sheets wet. The prettiest angel picks him up. He dresses the man in a soft robe. Brushes hair. Kisses lips. And then he is left there. Dressed in ragged clothes, breathing heavy. Cum dripping from his body. 

Chapter 2: Abused 

**Severus**

Hands are such evil things. They hold knives and belts and whips. Hands hold wrist up over black topped heads. Hands leave dark welts in soft unblemished skin. Hands turn beautiful feminine things into ugly and dark things. The angel doesn't liked to be bruised, but is used to it. Too many times has he succumbed to the hands. Too many times has he allowed the hands to break him and then heal him. He knows that the hands love him. The hands have traced loving lines along his back. Just as the hands love him...he loves the hands. The man screams. Hands turn into nails. The nails dig into his back, break skin and let blood drip down his legs. The man doesn't love the nails. Even during loving caresses, the nails manage to make him cry. They make him realize he is weak, that he is just a shell of his former self.

**Remus**

He used to be such a wonderful father. Cupcakes on Teddy's birthday. Kisses when it was time for Teddy to sleep. Even during his tweakings, the man was a marvelous father. He'd wipe tears away from Teddy, all while picking skin from his arms. Teddy would help him patch the skin up later on. Then he would tuck he and Teddy into bed. Teddy would sleep and he would pull strands of hair from his head. 

But that is gone now. Teddy has become one of the demons. He works with the snakes and spiders. Teddy's the one that brings the darkness with him. It's all Teddy's fault. This is what the man thinks as he picks up the nearest glass pipe. The man throws it at his demon son, screaming. YOU FUCKING SLUT! YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKED MY BOYFRIEND.

Teddy is crying. _Don't cry Teddy, my sweet sweet baby_. The man yells at the sweet voice in his head. YOU SLUT! YOU SLUT! The man stomps across the room. A metal pan grabs his attention. He picks it up, anger flaring throughout his body. _Remus no. Remus please don't hit him. Remus please...please..! STOP! HE WANTS HIS DADDY BACK!_ The man raises the pot, ready to swing. The demon shakes his head, NO DADDY! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! The man doesn't hear him. SLUT, SLUT!

__

_Remus please! DON-_

**Severus**

Look how pretty these shoes are miss. Look how lovely this dress is miss. Look how lovely your eyes are miss. Look how. Look how. LOOK HOW. LOOK HOW. LOOK HOW. The man doesn't know what they are talking about. Those silly girls are fawning over him as he glides through the store. The robes are such foolish pieces of fabric. Tight gray robes are placed next to short green dresses. The man picks up a pretty red number. It's soft satin...The man could imagine it melding into his slight curves. But then he remembers his lord's words. No more clothing this week my love. Not until you please me again. The man grabs the red dress. He wants it. In fact he needs it. The man stuffs the dress inside of his bag. For once he feels in control.

**Remus**

Snakes crawl under his skin. They eat him for breakfast. Mmm, they say. He tastes like emptiness. The man bats them away, using a sharp knife to cut them from himself. No! He whimpers. Nothing but cold air hears him. The air echoes his cry. The man crawls to the air. Air? Air? Can you hear me? The man digs into his skin again, using his fingers to pluck out left over snakes and beetles. They skitter away. They crawl under his shirt into his eyes again. The man stabs himself. They skitter in and out, in and out. The man sticks a finger down his throat. Cough, cough. Gurgle. Gurgle. Acid pours out of him. The beetles come out with chunks of bread and bone. He catches snakes writing with soup. He puts a hand over his mouth, willing the acid to stop .But it burns right through him. The man screams. NO! NO! STOP! He can barely talk. The acid burns his lips, cuts his teeth. The man gurgles as the acid comes up again. Footsteps. NO! NO! 

"Dad?" Hands touch him. They push back hair and check his temperature. "Are you okay?" The hands give him chocolate. CHOCOLATE! His mind goes into a frenzy as he stuffs it into his mouth. The flavors mesh together. Lemon tastes like orange. Dark chocolate is white. Cream is honey. 

"Slow down. I have more." The hand opens to revel truffles and bars of cocoa. The man takes each piece slower. He enjoys the cool caramel against his tongue. The spicy heat of peppers melt into the sweetness of white chocolate. For even just these few moments the man is at peace.

"How's about I get you all cleaned up? I'll patch up your wounds and then we can have some french fries." The demon turns into a angel again. The man brings the boy close to him. He says words that feel funny in his mouth. The man won't remember the way the words mean later that night. But he will remember that they were sour and a little bitter. They were sprinkled with salt and regret and a twinge of honesty.

"I love you too daddy."


End file.
